France's new friend
by NuggetSaurus
Summary: Oneshot. Crack. France looking for friends. Light FrUk. Rated for T because rules are paranoid.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia, be grateful about that**

**Thank you and a big hug to _ArtisticIce _and her gorgeous beta work!**

Once upon time, there was a little nation called France. In his red pants and royal blue coat, he met others countries all over the world.

France has a really perverted personality, and some other countries find it rather disruptive. They obviously thought that running around naked and sexually bullying behavior was wrong. Ohonhonhon. How silly.

That's why France became very lonely. Of course, he has a couple of good friends, like Spain and Prussia. But Spain was really busy with that bastard Romano, and Prussia was.. umh, well, Prussia.

So, sitting alone in his beautiful garden, drinking his wine and thinking some pervy images that were filled with nudity and some of his fellow countries, France decided to take things in his own hands.

And after that he left to look a new friend. But who it would be?

He walked at the country side of his wonderful country, and soon he was at the boarder of Switzerland. '_Switzerland is beautiful country too'_, France thought. Maybe they could be friends?

Switzerland's landscape was breathtaking. Alps surrounded his ground and fresh air, which ruffled Frances gorgeous blond curls, blew from the mountains. This made him feel clean and calm.

Now, with a spring in one's step, he began to search Switzerland. Where was his new green-eyed friend?

As the same time he wondered that, he heard running steps from distance. And there he was; silly hat on top of his blond hairs and riffle on his shoulder.

France smiled, but the smile turned to a grimace, when he heard Switzerland's shouting him something in German, not able to understand that. But when the riffle came into his hands, the message went though.

He turned on his high-heeled shoes and run as fast as he could away from Switzerland, who shouted curses to him.

But France didn't give in! Maybe Switzerland didn't want to be his friend, but someone would want to be. So he pulled out his navigator and began to search Poland. He had heard that Poland was a loyal friend.

Soon he stood in front of a huge, pink house. The yard was filled with ponies who's prance around and toss. '_What a beautiful creatures'_, France thought.

One of the ponies came over him and wiggled his head significantly. Some of the other ponies joined to convoy and they walked at the formation. On the back of the yard France saw a white garden table with matching chairs, and a person sitting there. The person raised his head when he heard one of his ponies whinny. He put his nail polish away and shook his hand to dry his nails.

Ponies went to line and stand still when Poland walked by them. Soon he stood in front of France who looked very impressed by the ponies.

"That is like, totally the coolest trick that I taught to them," The little man boasted in his valley girl accent. France chuckled; at least this man hasn't driven him away.

"So, like, what are you doing here?" Poland asked and breathed on his nails.

"I was just thinking that maybe we could be friends!" France exclaimed happily.

Poland's eyes sparkled, and he jumped on his feet, clapping his hands.

"That is like, totally the best idea that is ever made! Like totally cool, we can go shopping together, and paint our nails and read magazines and stuff! Come, I have some great nail polish that would like totally be your colour!" Poland shouted and took France's hand. He had quite tight grip when he dragged France one of the chair. With professional moves he began to paint his nails. Color was rich red, and France had to think that it was quite sexy.

The day turned in to night, but Poland didn't want him to go. Every time when France stood up he would track him down, and at last time he had threaten him to tie him up into chair if he tried to go away.

So, France began to think of his escape plan. It was an ingenious.

Next time when Poland went to bathroom, France ripped the curlers away from his head and took his coat and jumped at the window. He landed on ground like a cougar and run. He heard neighing behind him and a shout:

"Now, my little ponies; don't let him escape! Like, go and get him!"

France looked at his back and saw ponies. They didn't look like as friendly as at daylight, and it was quite freighting. And then there was Poland. He had raised one of those ponies back and his nail polish glittered at the moonlight. France elongated his steps.

He ran like devil himself would have been chasing him. Soon Poland's girly shouts died and France was all alone in the forest. Damn that Poland, he had taken his precious time for searching friends!

Who would be his next victi- err, sorry, author's mistake, next _friend _candidate?

He explored for a long time until he was at Denmark's country boarder. He stopped and thought about that wild haired man and his Nordic fellows. They seemed always so nice.

So, soon he found himself behind Denmark's door and was and knocked. The door opened Denmark stood there, his face was red and he wobbled little.

"Hi, my dear France! We have a drinking competition with England and Russia and some others! Come in!" He joyfully greeted the French man with a loud voice. France smiled and stepped inside.

_'Good, there is a lot of others too! Maybe I can get some of them to be my friend!_' he smiled to himself hopefully.

The room was filled with other nations, and since Denmark had gone to kitchen to search some beer, he went to sit on the sofa, next to Iceland.

Iceland sat still, not even looking up when France came. He tried to get his attention by snapping his fingers against the couch; each other's and Iceland's head. Nothing worked. But he, however, got Iceland's bird's attention. The bird looked innocent by first look, but France wasn't fool. He knew that sometimes had come to his place to 'play' with Pierre, and sometimes it had brought Gilbird with it. France quickly stood up as bird's little eyes followed him.

He almost ran to Finland. The little nation was drunk by Vodka, and his eyes wandered here and there, not really focusing anywhere.

Hah! This was France's opportunity. A defenseless nation all alone.

"Hello my little friend", he welcomed and put his hand on Finland's shoulder. Suddenly, the small blonde's eyes narrowed and he made a terribly loud war shout. He took France's hand and flung him at the floor. Then, like anything had happened, Finland wobbled away to Sweden babbling something strange about walruses' disco dance event.

France lied on the floor, his back arching and friendless. He heard how Russia won the drinking competition and how others cheers to his victory. Then Russia made a squeak and ran away because of Belarus who molests him by chants and thoughts of marriage.

He pushed himself up, dusted his beautiful clothes and was about to leave, when he felt a soft hand on his hand. He looked behind and saw England. The man didn't look at France, but he could tell that his face was red. France chuckled.

"I heard that you were searching a friend…" the man with very, very bushy eyebrows mumbled.

France took England's face in his hands and then they kissed intensively while fireworks explode on the outside, without regent to how Italy made a magic tricks with pasta or how America played Pokémon games with China.

Fin.


End file.
